


today, of all days

by allshallfade



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Cullen Rutherford Has Issues, Developing Relationship, Dorian Pavus is a Good Friend, F/M, Feels, Lyrium Withdrawal, Miscommunication, Short One Shot, War Table Operation: Protect Clan Lavellan (Dragon Age) - Failure, this is not Cullen's finest moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 05:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30067647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allshallfade/pseuds/allshallfade
Summary: So, so much could go wrong in times of war. He’d spent more nights than not restlessly pacing his office, anticipating multitudes of worst-case scenarios - of enemy sieges, blighted dragons, assassination attempts, and more - and built contingency plan on top of contingency plan to account for them. He would never repeat the failure at Haven, not here; he would die of exhaustion himself before Elloway’s sacrifice was the only option again.But something in the mage’s somber face told him this was not something he had ever planned for.---Fearful of his ongoing battle with lyrium withdrawal, Elloway Lavellan ordered the Commander to stay behind while her party investigated the lead about Samson at Sahrnia Quarry. They haven't spoken since their tense goodbye, and when she finally returns to Skyhold Cullen let his demons get in the way of connecting with her when she needs him most.Cue Dorian to save the day.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	today, of all days

The Commander of the Inquisition had just opened the first report from his stack - from Leliana, marked as urgent - when _another_ knock came at his door.

He tossed the thick parchment at his desk in defeat, pressing two fingers into the bridge of his nose. Cullen had woken up with a headache - one of the particularly sharp ones, where it felt as though his skull was made of steel and encased in ice - and the pain had only been growing worse with the day’s events.

“ _What is it?”_ he barked, as the knocking started again.

The door to his office creaked open just enough for Podric’s round, oddly moist face to peek through.

“Commander, ser, uh, sorry to interrupt, I, uh…”

Some days he had patience for the guard’s awkward, bumbling ways - but today was not one of them.

“Out with it, soldier,” Cullen grunted, grinding his teeth so hard it almost masked the persistent ringing in his ears.

There were sounds of scuffling, but before he could react Podric gave a squeal of alarm and disappeared from view as another, deeper voice boomed from outside.

“Oh _vishante kaffas_ , out of the way!”

The heavy wooden door banged open to reveal an uncharacteristically disheveled Dorian Pavus, his robed figure framed dramatically by the late afternoon sun.

Cullen leaned back in his chair, brows raised; this was an unexpected visit, and the mage did not look happy.

Podric was blocked from entering the room, but he ducked beneath Dorian’s outstretched arm to meet his Commander’s eyes.

“Apologies, ser, uh, Ser Pavus, he just -”

Cullen waved a gloved hand to dismiss him. He may not yet know what caused his friend to storm into his office, clearly straight from the road, and in such a state of agitation, but he was pretty confident he wouldn’t want half the barracks hearing about it.

“I can take it from here, Pod - you may resume your post. Please shut the door on your way out.”

Podric gulped, gave an attempt at a salute, and backed away, pulling the door shut behind him as the mage swept ominously into the room.

As soon as the latch clicked into place Dorian threw back his hood and pressed his hands to his hips, skipping any pleasantries to say:

“I never took you for a cruel man, Commander _-_ though I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time I was blinded by a chiseled jaw line and firm backside.”

Cullen just blinked up at Dorian, mouth agape, as he attempted to process this nonsensical statement.

“Oh, don’t you give me those puppy dog eyes,” Dorian continued, lip curling. “If you think I’m going to take your side in this, you’ve sorely misjudged my allegiances.”

Firm backsides and puppy dog eyes? By the Maker, he didn’t have _time_ for this.

“I have no idea what ‘sides’ you’re referring to,” Cullen growled, bracing against the desk as he rose to his feet. He was taller than the mage, and made sure his posture accentuated the fact. “Or what you’re speaking of at all, really - but I am _busy_ , Dorian.”He leaned forward, teeth bared. “If you’ve something to say, _just say it_.”

Dorian crossed his arms, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“Are you _threatening_ me right now?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Tsk, tsk, Cullen - mindless brute really isn’t your color, I’m afraid.”

Cullen felt the flash of fire run up his spine, but bit down the flame before heated words could escape.

Instead he closed his eyes, head pounding as he took a deep, steadying breath; Andraste, give him the strength to remain calm.

It had been a long morning, to be sure, and the late winter sun had already started its descent across a cloud-speckled sky. This was the first time he had been behind his desk since dawn, and there was too much to be done: his pile of unread reports stacked higher than the candle to read them by, Knight-Captain Rylen was still waiting on updated patrol schedules, and he was expected to oversee afternoon drills within the hour. Not to mention the dozens of other little tasks he was just barely keeping track of.

All of this would have been manageable, on a normal day; busyness was a shield he’d long since trained to carry without rest. But today the Inquisitor had returned to Skyhold after weeks on the road, and theirs had not been a happy reunion.

Something constricted in his belly, fierce and fearful, but he pressed it away. He had too much to do.

He would think of it later.

Cullen opened his eyes to find the mage looking at him expectantly; he might as well have been tapping a foot.

“Must I spell it out for you, truly?” Dorian’s voice was almost pained.

Cullen glared back.

“Do I look like I have any idea what you’re talking about?”

The mage sighed extravagantly.

“Fine, if I must - but do know I am deeply disappointed in you,” he said, eying Cullen sternly before continuing. “Now, I know we stole away to Sahrnia Quarry without inviting you, and everyone’s been weeping into their pillows with regret over it, but that gives you _no right_ to treat her like this. She -”

This time Cullen didn’t bite back the fury, his fists clenched to hide their shaking.

“The Inquisitor may share what she wishes, but my personal affairs are none of your -”

The words froze on his tongue as the mage stepped forward, eyes flashing; Cullen felt the familiar tingle of magic crackling in the air.

“Oh, it most certainly _is_ my business,” Dorian spoke over him, voice like a blade wrapped in velvet. “Elloway’s well-being is probably the most important thing in Thedas right now, in fact. You of all people should know that - and care about it.”

“Of _course_ I care about her -”

“And yet you sent her away, Cullen! How could you do that?” Dorian’s voice had risen several octaves, his expression so devastated that Cullen took a step back, finally understanding just how troubled his friend really was.

He pressed a fist into his desk, mind racing - yes, he probably could have handled his conversation with Elloway more tactfully, and yes, he was still angry that she’d ordered him to stay behind, to worry and wonder alone while they investigated the lead at Sahrnia - but surely she trusted they’d discuss it later, when his duties had been attended to?

They had both agreed the Inquisition came first, when forced to choose; it had to, for the cost of it not was too high.

Then why had this upset her so? Enough to go to Dorian, and to cause him to defend her so fiercely?

Dorian was watching Cullen’s mental calculations, and when he came up blank the mage threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Just when I think I’m beginning to understand you southerners…” he pressed a hand to forehead. “Is it perhaps some backwards Fereldan courting ritual, to deny your lover comfort in times of hardship?”

Cullen blinked.

Times of hardship? Denying comfort? What was he on about?

Dorian was pacing around the office now, gesticulating wildly.

“It must be some strange, cultural quirk - that’s the only reasonable explanation I’ve been able to conjure. Why else would you refuse to put aside duty for one day - just one bloody day, Cullen! - to be there for her? She _needs_ you, today of all days!”

Cullen went still at those final words, something with too many legs crawling in the pit of his stomach.

He spoke slowly, carefully. 

“What do you mean, ‘today of all days’?”

The mage spun on his heel and turned to face him, eyes searching. Their gazes locked, held for an instant, and then Dorian deflated, a grim realization flooding his features.

“You… don’t know, do you?”

Cullen tried to contain the alarm rapidly building in his chest.

“Don’t know _what_ , Dorian?”

The mage averted his eyes, and suddenly the room felt very small.

“I… shouldn’t be the one to tell you this,” he said, hand wiping down his face, pulling at his mustache. “Leliana, she - she sent word to you?”

Cullen’s eyes darted back to his desk where the opened report still sat, waiting to be read.

“I haven’t had a chance to - Dorian, _tell me what’s going on,”_ he commanded. “Now.”

So, so much could go wrong in times of war. He’d spent more nights than not restlessly pacing his office, anticipating multitudes of worst-case scenarios - of enemy sieges, blighted dragons, assassination attempts, and more - and built contingency plan on top of contingency plan to account for them. He would never repeat the failure at Haven, not here; he would die of exhaustion himself before Elloway’s sacrifice was the only option again.

But something in the mage’s somber face told him this was not something he had ever planned for.

“Right, well,” Dorian swallowed, reluctance oozing from him like the scent of liquor on a drunk. “Word arrived this morning of the situation in the Free Marches, at Wycome. Soldiers from neighboring cities formed an army and… killed the elves taking refuge there.” He grimaced; voice tight. “Clan Lavellan was slaughtered, Cullen - all of them.”

Ah.

The Commander closed his eyes, bracing against the bookshelf to his right as his head spun.

The thought came unbidden, unwanted, but still it came: this was not some new, deadly evil for them to face, no unspeakable black magic nor ghastly abomination from the Fade. As was too often the case, the relentless projections of his paranoid mind had insulated him from the shock of reality; for one dark, disgraceful breath, he was grateful this wasn’t something _worse._

Next came the bitterness, a war drum booming a steady beat behind his ribs: he had known this would happen. He had told them so, had advised they send troops to fortify the city against this very outcome - but Josephine was so sure her honeyed words and hollow gestures could prevent the need for bloodshed. They thought him too quick to jump to the sword, just as they always did, and so they stamped letters instead of sending soldiers and look what good it had done them. Maker’s breath, he had _told them!_

And then, finally, came the shame. It poured cold down his spine and ice around his heart, as though he’d gnawed off a piece of death itself and swallowed it whole: for how could he feel relief, or anger, or anything at all about _him_ when Elloway’s entire clan had just been slain?

Maker, what she must be feeling right now…

 _Fuck_.

The ringing in his ears cut off abruptly when he finally realized she had tried to tell him, earlier. She had come to his office before anywhere else, eyes like dewdrops on leaves, and wanted to talk. She’d smelled of the road, of sweat and dirt and rain and _her_ , and he’d almost shattered right then and there at the sight of her; Maker he had _missed_ her, and he wanted to hold her and kiss her and never let her go; but there was so much to do and she had _hurt him_ when she left and if they went into it then he would never get anything done.

So he’d kept his distance, speaking over her even as she pleaded with him to _just listen._

He loved this woman more than he’d ever loved anything (Andraste forgive him), but he’d been too tired and in too much pain, so he had shut her down and he had sent her away.

Today, of all days.

_Fuck._

He drew back a tight fist, and he punched the bookshelf.

He punched it too hard, not even bothering to open his eyes first.

The wooden shelves rattled, and the scent of old parchment and dust filled the air. Cullen breathed in through a furled nose, held it, and then exhaled shakily.

The guilt, the self-loathing, the rage, all of it - it wasn’t _useful_ , it wasn’t going to change anything. He was a fool, and he prayed she could forgive him for it, but this wasn’t about him.

This was about her, and he had already wasted enough time.

“Where is she now?”

Cullen looked up to find Dorian was watching him; the mage raised a brow at the question, though not unkindly.

“She went to her quarters, alone, and ordered any visitors be turned away. Leliana is keeping an eye on her - discreetly.”

Cullen pressed away from the bookshelf and ran fingers through his thick hair, knuckles aching; the pain was welcome, sharp and grounding.

Hopefully she had not left her room - he could easily imagine Elloway stealing away to run the high mountain trails, as she was so wont to do when the burdens of the Inquisition became too much. In fact, it was downright unsettling she hadn’t immediately done so. It did not bode well for her condition.

Cullen moved abruptly into action, with the confidence and precision only a soldier could muster.

“Send word to Knight-Captain Rylen - I will be unavailable until further notice. Ask him to run afternoon drills, and to reuse last month’s patrol schedules until I can provide new ones. He’ll know what to do about the rest. Any urgent messages can be forwarded through Leliana - otherwise, tell no one where I am.” 

He was striding out from behind his desk as he spoke, heading for the door, but paused when his gaze met Dorian’s.

The mage was nodding approvingly.

“Good man,” Dorian said, eyes finally warm again. “Though I won’t deny you had me worried there, for a moment.”

“Oh? I hadn’t noticed,” was Cullen’s dry reply, and Dorian chuckled.

“Yes, yes, subtlety is not my strength, I’m well aware. But off with you now, shoo!” He gave Cullen a little push towards the door. “I’ll take care of everything here, never you worry. I might just enjoy having a taste of command, in fact…”

The wicked glint in Dorian’s eye immediately made Cullen start to worry, but he pushed it aside - it didn’t matter, not really - and he resumed his march towards the door.

Something struck him as he reached for the latch, however, and he hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder. Dorian was already seated behind his desk, looking quite pleased with himself.

Cullen met his friend’s gaze and held it.

“Thank you, Dorian,” he said, simply.

“Oh, I didn’t do it for you,” the mage replied, but the twinkle in his eye said otherwise. “Now go to your lady - but do send Podric back in here so I can order him about, won’t you?”

Cullen smirked, sending a silent prayer for the poor soldier, and did as he was told.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! It certainly wasn't Cullen's finest moment (and thank the Maker for bff Dorian), but I consider it an important one in my headcanon for his personal growth / relationship with Elloway, and I enjoyed exploring his emotional journey in this situation. At some point I will be posting more regarding this plot line, but for now I hope you enjoyed reading this one-shot :) 
> 
> Thanks again for being here, and reminder - kudos/comments are always greatly appreciated, and mean more than you know <3


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